


Triangles Are My Favorite Shape

by Zoeleo



Series: The Rule of Three [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Anal Sex, Multi, Porn with Feelings, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoeleo/pseuds/Zoeleo
Summary: A week after their pizza and MST3K fueled ménage à trois, Stephanie and Tim invite Jason out to dinner with them. He's not sure if that means they want to take things to a new level, or are trying to dump him nicely. Either way, he's shoved himself into the tightest pair of pants he owns. But when he gets a call from the Gotham U Campus police station, their plans get derailed.Tim breaks off into a giggle, “I think we need to let Jason out of those pants first though, before he spontaneously combusts.”





	Triangles Are My Favorite Shape

**Author's Note:**

> HEY FRANDS! So, here's part 2. It's gonna be a 3 part series. Because I'm super-cliche and the idea of a trilogy about a threesome tickles me. Apparently I absolutely cannot write porn without feels. Just not capable. Hope you enjoy! Pass on thanks to Embleer_Frith0323 for beta-ing!
> 
> Also, just a heads up. For those of you who follow along w/MDOJT and the New Prometheus... My procrastination/break session is officially over. That's going to be my main focus again from here on out. So it should start updating regularly (bout 1x a month)

Jason sucks down another cigarette. Cowboy killer, cancer stick, tar cigar. His third one in thirty minutes. He thought it would help ease the bubbling anxiety in his belly. Third time is not the charm apparently. He frowns at the bad habit in his hands, already burned down to the filter, and flicks it into a puddle. He growls at himself and fishes it out of the inch-deep slick of water and grime to toss in the garbage bin on his right. _Nobody likes a litterbug._

He wipes his fingers on his jeans and moans. Shit. Now there are dirty streaks over the thigh of his good jeans. The black ones without grease stains and holes in the knees. The ones that are a just a _hair_ too tight. He snorts and cards his hands through his hair. Who is he trying to impress? Okay, he knows exactly who he’s trying to impress. He’s just not sure why. It’s not like he was wearing his good jeans last time and he’d still gotten laid.

Of course, last time he gotten laid (he’d had sex with Stephanie Brown and Tim Drake - God, wasn’t that a thought to wrap his mind around?) they’d been slouching around watching MST3K and eating pizza, so who cared? But tonight… Tonight is supposed to be like a real date. He's pretty sure. Dinner, at some restaurant Tim suggested that he’s never been to before. Dinner is a date, right?

Oh god, what if it’s not? Here he’s been jerking to the idea of a re-enactment of their ménage à trois ever since Tim texted him inviting to come out for dinner… But what if they just want to let him down slowly? To politely explain over filet mignon that what happened was a freak one-time incident and they just want to stay friends and clear the air so they can all continue to work together professionally. No hard feelings. Except he’ll be sitting there in his stupid too-tight jeans and dumbass v-neck shirt and they’ll know he was expecting something else entirely. Hoping for something else. At least Tim will, he’s too smart not to notice - his freaky little mind picking up on every microscopic detail. Like the fact Jason actually put on cologne tonight. And not the cheap shit in a plastic bottle from TJ Maxx.

But then the memory of Tim panting in his ear, _‘Oh god. I wanna—I want to—Next time. I want to be in you. Wanted to fuck you for so long. I want to fuck you while you’re buried in her. Be like I’m fucking you both,’_ has Jason shivering. He isn’t sure how much of those words he really comprehended in the moment, he had been busy cumming the hardest he’d ever cum in his life. But he’d thought about them a lot in the nights that followed. Nights spent lying in safe house beds alone.

It’s been a long time since he’s done that with anyone and his last experiences hadn't been the most pleasant. He tries to imagine Tim being the one behind him, erection ruining the lines of his slacks as he grinds up against Jason's ass. His gut buzzes at the thought, but he can’t tell if it’s in fear or excitement. The important thing though, is that Tim wouldn’t have said _next time_ , if he hadn’t thought there would be one. Right? 

Jason twists the fingers in his hair harder, until it starts to sting at the roots.

“Damnit!” he yelps, belatedly realizing that he’s messed his hair up now too.

He debates the merits of lighting up a fourth cigarette, hands already digging through his pockets for the pack when his phone vibrates. His brows draw together in surprise. He's not supposed to meet up with Tim and Blondie at the restaurant for another hour.

“Hello?”

_“Hey Jay,_ ” Blondie’s voice wavers on the other end. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, wishing his own didn’t sound so coarse.

_“Eh. It’s y’know… I was hoping you could do me a favor?”_

Jason isn’t sure what one has to do with the other, but the words, “Yeah, of course. What do you need?” are out of his mouth before he knows what he’s saying.

“ _Can you come get me? I um… I punched someone and got arrested_ ,” Stephanie laughs bitterly.

It sounds wet and Jason gets the distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she’s been crying.

“Ahh,” he hesitates, “Look, Steph… I really don’t think it’s a good idea—”

A list of terrible outcomes unfurls in his head, long enough to stretch from the front steps of his house in Robbinsville down to Dixon docks in the south.

_“Please Jay. They didn’t press charges. I just need a ride from the campus police station. They're barely even real cops.”_

A heavy pause digs its claws into his chest.

_“Please? I don’t want to call Tim or my Mom. I don’t want them to know. You don’t even have to come inside. Please?”_

Jason sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a few.”

Christ, he’s so fucking weak.

+++

He slows his battered old Toyota pick-up (more pink than red now, and a total bitch to try and park in the city, but it pays for itself in convenience when hauling things that are _definitely not guns or bodies, Bruce_ ) when he’s a block away from the station. He can see a figure sitting on a bench outside the front door under a dull orange semi-circle of light, hood up on their jacket and knees tucked to their chest. He flashes his lights and the figure rises and quickly paces to the passenger side door. Jason glances at her before turning his eyes back to line painted pavement.

No wonder why she didn’t want to walk all the way back across campus to her dorm. There’s mascara lines running clear down to her chin, eyes red and puffy, and he’s pretty sure there are flecks of red speckled across the collar of her t-shirt where it’s showing above the hoodie. A flick of his eyes downward takes in the bruised knuckles of the hand she cradles in her lap.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks as the truck moves forward, passing the station.

He registers her shrug in his peripheral vision.

“Okay,” he answers out loud in response and keeps driving.

It won’t be long. Blondie reminds him of Dick in some ways. Like in her total inability to stay quiet for a protracted amount of time. He makes a turn. It’s not a long drive back to the dorms but with a 15 mile per hour speed limit and stop signs with crosswalks at practically every friggin’ corner, their progress is slowed significantly. At the next real stop light, Stephanie’s lips part. After a trembling breath she speaks.

“It was my ex,” she says simply, then clarifies, “The one who got me pregnant. Guess you already know all about that though, huh? You and Tim and Bruce… You’re all the same. Probably had a case file on me all made up before you even came back to Gotham.”

Of course he did. Jason elects not to incriminate himself and stays silent.

“Dean fucking Wesson. God, he was such a loser. What was I thinking? If I could go back in time and just… Such a loser, Jason! He had white-boy dreads and reeked of weed and conspiracy theories.”

Jason can’t help but chuckle a little at that.

“But he was the first guy to ever show any real interest in me and,” Stephanie continues, “I guess it was just nice to be liked by someone.”

She goes silent for a bit. Jason ruminates on her words. He can empathize. He thinks about the unlikely friendship he’s fallen into with Blondie and Tim and wonders if he was normal—if he’d never met Batman, never become Robin, never crawled out of the grave… Would Blondie and Tim be the kind of people he’d make friends with? Or does he only like them because they’d been the first to accept him as is, warts and all? Is it a selfish desire that drives him into their company, and at one point their bed? He remembers the soft feel of Blondie’s breasts against his chest, the burn of pride at Tim’s praise, falling into a boneless sated sleep after… It had felt so good to just _feel good_. Wanted. Liked. 

Stephanie picks up again. “He was so gross. But today… He ambushed me when I was leaving my organic chemistry class. I didn’t even recognize him at first. He’s all…” she waves her arms to emphasize a point she’s yet to make, “Got it together now. Nice suit, good haircut. Some job with his fiancée’s dad’s company or some bullshit.” She sniffs and wipes at her nose. “He wanted to know if I had the contact information for the family that adopted my baby. I don’t. It was a closed adoption right? I couldn't give him that even if I wanted to. And I told him that and he went _off._ Screaming that I didn’t have the right to do that, that he deserves to be able to meet his baby girl. And…”

She gasps for breath, voice thick, “You know what he said last time I saw him? Last time I saw him I told him I’d put the baby up for adoption and he said _‘Good, then there’s no reason for us to not get back together then.’_ Like he was happy I got rid of it. Pissed me off so much I kicked him in the balls. Then here is, acting like he… If he wanted to be a part of her life so bad, then where’s he been the last three years? Where was he when I was pregnant? When I was at the hospital? I mean, god, Tim was the one who went to Lamaze classes with me.”

Stephanie chokes off. Jason darts his eyes to the side and glimpses her teeth glinting red in the glare of the stoplight, bared in a grimace. Oh fuck. She’s crying. Hard. What does he do? He is not prepared for this. His training is woefully lacking in this department. He stares at the stoplight in panic and glides through it on autopilot when it changes.

____

“Sounds like a douche. How’d you get away without him pressing charges? Judging by your fist, I’m guessing his face looks pretty fantastic,” he asks trying to segue into a less emotionally fraught subject.

____

Stephanie sniggers, “I told him that Timothy Drake-Wayne was a good friend, and if he lawyered up I would too.”

____

“Nice. Smart move Blondie. Milk that Wayne connection for all they’ve got.”

____

They reach the fire lane outside of Blondie’s dorm. She stares up at the gloomy concrete high-rise through the window.

____

“Thanks,” she murmurs. “Sorry to inconvenience you, make you come out here all this way. Would you uh… Would you tell Tim I’m sorry I couldn’t make it? I just really don’t feel like going out. You look really good though. By the way.” She offers up a thin smile. “You’ll drive Tim crazy in that shirt,” she laughs weakly and tweaks a nipple through the thin fabric, making Jason jump. “I hope you guys have fun.”

____

Her hand strays towards the door handle, slowly like she’s not quite ready to leave the sympathetic safety of the cab.

____

Fuck this shit. Jason locks the doors and eases off the brake, pulling away from the morbid monstrosity of 1980’s architecture before she can open the door.

____

“Jason? What—what are you doing?”

____

“Taking you to my house. Where there’s an actually comfortable couch that's not made out of vinyl, a bed that’s not a twin, and most importantly, booze,” Jason informs her.

____

“So, you’re kidnapping me? Jay,” she sighs, “you don’t have to—I don’t want to ruin your night. Really, it’s okay. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You don’t need to cancel with Tim just because—”

____

Jason cuts her off.

____

“Okay, I’m gonna say something sappy as shit, but turn around is fair play and I honest to god can’t fucking count on my fingers and toes how many times you and Timbo have said this to me, but: _Just because you can take care of yourself, doesn’t mean you should have to_. So sit back and shut up and let me do this okay? Besides, you really want to spend the rest of your night moping on a bed that my cat won’t even fit on? Fuck that. Fuck that Dennis guy—”

____

“Dean—”

____

“Whatever. Fuck him. You’re coming back with me to my place and we’re gonna get piss drunk and eat and you can cuddle the cat until we pass out. What’s your favorite comfort food?”

____

“What?”

____

“What is your favorite comfort food? Like macaroni and cheese or lasagna or what?”

____

“Uh. Waffles?” she answers, voice rasping in surprise. “Yeah, waffles.”

____

“Waffles it is then,” Jason affirms while he twists his hips so he can get to the phone in his pocket.

____

Tim picks up on the second ring.

____

_“Oh hey, I was just about to call you, wasn't sure if you needed the address of the restaurant or not. What’s up?”_

____

“Hey Captain. First Mate is in need of rescue so I’m staging a mutiny. We’re aborting the mission. I’m gonna need you to pick up supplies and rations and meet us at a different set of coordinates,” Jason snaps, shooting Stephanie a wink.

____

She claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle despite herself.

____

_“Uh… What’s going on? Everything okay?”_

____

“There’s a diner on the corner of Pauli Street and 12th that has breakfast 24 hours. We’re gonna need a lot of waffles. And bacon. And whatever else you want, okay? See you at my place. Helmsman Todd out.”

____

He ends the call and tosses the phone into a cup holder. He shoots a grin Stephanie’s way, that all-important muscle behind his ribs flips over itself at the sincerity of her smile.

____

“Thanks, Jay.”

____

“No problem, Blondie.”

____

When they get back to his house he doesn’t let her get up. He picks her up bridal style, much to her delighted protestations, and carries her inside. He carries her all the way into his room and drops her off in front of the bathroom door.

____

“Take a shower, wash this off,” he thumbs at the smudged mascara on her cheek, “and I’ll find something good on the TV, okay?”

____

He kisses her forehead, pushing sweatpants and a sweatshirt into her arms. Once he hears the water running, he sends a quick text to Tim: _Sorry for the change in plans. Blondie had a run-in in with her ex. Pretty upset. Wasn’t feeling up to going out._

____

He buzzes around, cleaning up the pile of books and magazines off his coffee table and grabbing the extra blankets out of the linen closet. He rustles up three shot glasses and pulls the bottle of Captain Morgan down from the cabinet over the fridge, then settles himself on the couch. He only has six channels since he doesn’t have cable (it’s bad enough putting an alias down for the gas and electric, no way he's going to for something he doesn’t watch much anyways except to catch the news on), but he’s pretty sure one of the channels is a sci-fi station. Blondie should like that.

____

He’s proven right when she emerges from the bathroom and says, “Oh, Stargate. I love this show.”

____

But he’s too distracted by the fact that she’s decided to completely disregard the pants he'd given her and is climbing into his lap only in the sweatshirt, to pat himself on the back. Granted, his sweatshirt reaches halfway down her thighs but… Christ, she has gorgeous legs. He’d love to look longer, but she burrows under the blanket with him and nestles into his side. Liquid warmth rolls down his throat into his belly and he hasn’t even started drinking yet. He acts to rectify that immediately, pouring them both generous shots.

____

“Here,” he presses the glass into Blondie’s hands.

____

He tips his back promptly and watches her take hers. She slams it down without preamble like a grizzled detective in a film noir.

____

“Damn, Blondie,” he apprises, eyebrows raised to his hairline.

____

She snickers, “I got pregnant at fifteen Jason, did you think I was on the honor roll in high school?”

____

Jason chuckles, “Guess not. That would have been me.”

____

“What!” Stephanie exclaims, scandalized. “You were an honor roll kid?”

____

“Yup,” Jason confirms and pours them both second shots. “Straight A’s. Except from Mrs. Schlotsky. Oh man, did she hate me. Gave me B’s out of spite after I corrected her in class a few times.”

____

Stephanie covers her face with her hands, but it’s not enough to hide how widely her face is stretched in a smile.

____

“Oh my god, you were a nerd, weren’t you? Just like Tim!”

____

Jason frowns and shoves the shot at her. They knock them back, giggle and then down a third. Stephanie is warm and relaxed, curled against him, her legs crooked over his thighs. Her hand wanders up his shirt, palm sliding over the muscles of his stomach. In turn, he lets his roam up and down her long legs, fingers stroking right up to the hemline of the sweatshirt. She turns her face and brushes her lips against the underside of his chin, a silent request. He complies, tilting his head down to capture her mouth with his.

____

It’s soft and impossibly sweet. More so than any of their previous kisses. He didn’t even know Blondie could be so delicate, she’s usually such a force of nature. He cups the back of her neck, makes himself an anchor for her to hold steady to, and lets her lick kitten-like at his lips. Then her tongue moves to lave down his chin and neck and the moment of innocence passes. She tugs at his collar to get at his clavicle before huffing in frustration.

____

“Off,” she motions, and he obeys.

____

She pivots them around so that she’s straddling him, pushing him to lay lengthwise along the couch. During the change of position, he doesn't fail to notice that she’s not wearing underwear.

____

“ _Fuck,_ ” he groans and lets his head fall back against the armrest.

____

A mischievous smile alights on her face while she skates ticklish fingers over his obliques.

____

“God, I just wanna lick your abs,” she confesses.

____

He chuckles, “Well, I’m sure as fuck not going to stop you.”

____

She ducks down for a second, leaning over the side of the couch and comes back up with the bottle of rum. She takes a healthy swig and then holds it out for him. He opens his mouth and lets the liquor run down his throat, leaving a pleasant burn in its wake. It spills down his neck as she moves the bottle back without righting it, letting an amber stream splash over his over his chest and torso. The liquor is cool against his skin, raising goosebumps across his flesh. But they’re soothed away again when a hot tongue chases it, lapping up the beads and rivulets. He rumbles deep in his chest and unabashedly grabs at her bare ass, pulling her closer to grind against him.

____

“Oh Stargate, I love this show,” a familiar voice quips, accompanied by the rustling of plastic bags. “Oh! Damn. I like this show even better.”

____

Jason cranes his neck backwards wondering how he missed the sound of the perimeter alert and the door opening, to see Tim standing in the kitchen. The take-out bags hanging off his arms clash with the slim cut charcoal slacks and vest he’s wearing over a deep indigo shirt. He’s dressed for the dinner they’d never made it to and faint regret washes over Jason. He’s so handsome like that, his perfectly tailored clothes accentuating the trimness of his waist and the angle of his shoulders.

____

“Hm, I think food may have to wait,” Tim smirks at them and leaves the bags on the kitchen counter.

____

He stalks forward with all of the grace of a predatory cat, pupils blown, irises pressed into a thin ring of color at the far edges. He disrobes as he walks, picking at the knot of his tie. It comes loose and slides like quicksilver from his neck, pooling on the floor. His long elegant fingers move down the buttons of his vest and it falls from his shoulders with a mouth-watering shrug. Working the buttons of his shirt now, his hips subtly cant forward the closer he gets to the bottom.

____

It’s a piece of performance art, and Steph and Jason are frozen helplessly by the sight. Jason thinks of the myth of cobras mesmerizing prey, rodents caught by the intensity of their eyes and the languid swoops of their bodies. Somehow Tim makes the belt look as silken as the tie when the heavy leather unloops from around his waist. Jason’s fingers unintentionally dig into Blondie’s buttocks. His jaw drops when charcoal fabric gives way to gravity. He’s seen Tim’s nude form before, but he can’t get over the sharp lines of his Adonis belt and the cut glass definition of his calves.

____

Tim crouches on the floor next to the couch and threads his fingers through Jason’s hair. He kisses him, chastely before whispering in his ear, “Thanks for calling me, and taking care of her.”

____

Jason wants to tell him not to worry, it’s no big deal. He likes Blondie, and doesn’t deserve thanks just for being a decent human being, but Tim pulls back, only to dive forward again half-a-second later and take one of Jason’s nipples into his mouth. He gives it a suck that has Jason’s back arching and swirls his tongue around the nub. Tim rocks back on his heels to smirk up at Stephanie. 

____

“You missed a spot,” he teases then rises up to kiss her as well.

____

He combs her hair back over her shoulder and pecks her temple. He rests there a moment, forehead pressed to hers, lips hovering at her cheek before descending to her mouth. Watching them makes Jason breathless. Not because it’s titillating or even all that exciting, but because the genuine trust and affection between the two is so obvious it’s almost overwhelming. It’s a side to their relationship he hadn’t been witness to last time. It’s something he finds himself yearning for. He wants… He wants to be a part of that, to have someone look at and touch him like that.

____

He’s tired of being alone. He’s tired of being the outsider everyone doubts. He’d gotten a taste of what it would feel like falling asleep in a lover’s arms that once, and he’s hungry for more. 

____

Tim turns from where he’s perched on the edge of the couch. He wraps his arms around Blondie and fixes his gaze on Jason. It sharpens, and the next time Tim opens his mouth it’s not to recite sweet platitudes, but the filthiest words.

____

“You’re beautiful, Steph. You’re so hot, you’ve already got poor Jason here about ready to pop off,” he drawls and Jason’s gut tightens. 

____

His erection strains painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

____

“You want to fuck her don’t you, Jason? Remember how good she felt last time? You want to be in that tight, wet, cunt. Want to feel her shake around you and scream?”

____

Stephanie spreads her legs further apart. Inviting, welcoming. Tim’s hand disappears under the oversized sweatshirt, and Jason can tell what he’s doing by the movement of his wrist. He whines in acknowledgment. Tim smiles at the reaction he’s elicited, pistoning his hand with more force, making sure his knuckles brush against Jason’s clothed crotch every time. Jason can hear the slick sounds of Tim’s fingers pumping in and out of Blondie. He can feel her wetness dampening the front of jeans.

____

“But it’s not about what you want. It’s about what _she_ wants. Tonight is all about you, Steph. What do you want? Just tell us, and whatever it is, we’ll do it. Do you want a show? Do you want to watch me and Jason together? Or you want to put a show on for us? You’re so beautiful. You could just play with yourself and make us watch, deny us until we’re begging to touch you… Or do you want to relax and let us take care of you, worship you? Pass you back and forth, see how many times we can make you cum? Have Jason eat you out again, you loved that, remember? and while you’re still sensitive and twitching I—What was that?”

____

Blondie’s eyes flutter.

____

“I want you both,” she mumbles. “Want you both inside me.”

____

Jason groans and for all of his previous pornographic monologuing, even Tim seems shaken by the idea.

____

“Ye—Yeah,” he stammers. “We—we can do that. Stuff you full. I think—” he breaks off into breathless laughter, “I think we need to let Jason out of those pants first though, before he spontaneously combusts.”

____

Stephanie barks a surprised rough laugh and rises onto her knees high enough to shuffle back and unzip Jason’s fly. He hisses in relief, helping her and Tim shuck off his pants and briefs to free his aching engorged cock. Blondie sighs and tilts her head to the side.

____

“You really do have a pretty penis,” she compliments. “I think I like it better every time I see it.”

____

She takes hold of it, aligns it with her entrance, and sinks down, sliding home with no resistance, worked up from Tim’s ministrations. Jason closes his eyes, panting, and tries not to nut it right then and there.

____

“Does it feel better second time round?” Tim asks, voice tinged with wry curiosity.

____

“Mhmm.”

____

She circles her hips, once, twice, then settles into a shallow rocking rhythm. Which is good. Jason’s not sure he could take more than that. He grasps her thighs and rubs his palms up their insides, thumbs resting in the crease of her groin. Meanwhile, Tim’s fingers creep up, finally pulling Jason’s oversized sweatshirt from her lithe frame. The sight drives Jason to abandon her thighs. He presses a kiss to his thumb and ghosts it over the drill scar on her pelvis. Then travels a couple of inches up and to the right to smudge over the next scar, and the next, and the next, until he stops at the one just under her left collarbone.

____

“He’s right, you know? You’re so beautiful. I could drown in you.”

____

Blondie lets out a sound like a sob and squeezes around him. Jason surges up and takes her breast in his mouth, like he’d wanted to do last time. It’s supple and slightly salty with her sweat. He suckles at it, rolling the tit in his mouth, luxuriating in the mewls that follow. A hand curls in his hair, holding his head in place. He doesn’t feel Blondie’s manicured tips scratching at his scalp, and something about knowing it’s Tim’s hand sends a tingle down his spine. Once he’s worked her to stiff peak, the hand guides him to the other one.

____

Blondie is bouncing on his lap in earnest now, hurtling towards climax and taking Jason with her, nails digging into his shoulders.

____

“Jason, don’t—don’t come. Let her, but—still need you. Stay with me, okay?”

____

Tim’s hand leaves his hair to tap his cheek, directing Jason’s glassy gaze into Tim’s eyes. Jason bites his lip and nods, sweat running from his hairline down to his jaw. He grimaces and snakes one hand down where he’s joined with Blondie and wraps his fingers around his base to stave off his approaching orgasm. He’s just in time. Blondie pounds down onto him with so much force he thinks Tim must be helping her, his hands shoving down on her hips. He feels her start to flutter around him before she gives a short hoarse scream and the flutters turn into a series of powerful contractions. Her nails rake down his spine and he clenches his fist, muffling a cry against her shoulder.

____

He freezes like that, Blondie sagging against his front. He’s afraid to move. Afraid any tiny jostle will break his control, despite the vise grip he has on his penis. He casts about, thoughts scrambled, trying to recall a breathing exercise to force his body into a false calm. A comforting palm swipes up and down his back.

____

“That’s good. Fuck, that was so hot. Are you okay, Jason? Are you good?”

____

Jason inhales, deeply, shakily. He closes his eyes and nods.

____

“Good, good. Okay. I think it’ll be easiest if you lay back to do this.”

____

Jason blinks. He takes a fortifying breath and slowly leans back, muscles jerking in protest like rusting joints in need of oil. Stephanie slumps over with him. He tries his best not to choke at the change of angle while he shifts inside of her. Eventually they settle with her head tucked under his neck and he’s reminded fondly of Cat when she sleeps curled up on his chest. Tim leaves them be for a few minutes, getting up and wandering into the kitchen, and Jason feels it’s safe enough let go. He wiggles his fingers and slides them out from between the sweat-slick press of his and Blondie’s bodies to play with the ends of her hair.

____

Plastic rustles as Tim retrieves something out of one of the bags on the kitchen counter. Jason’s eyes lazily drift to the side, admiring the lean lines of Tim’s legs as he walks back with a bottle in hand. Tim notices him watching and his lips tilt up in an almost-shy half-smile.

____

“I, uh. I was hoping I’d be doing this with you tonight actually. Always be prepared right? No such thing as too much lube,” Tim chuckles.

____

Jason’s eyebrows arch. Blondie snorts against his chest. It tickles.

____

“Sorry, Tim. You’ll have to wait for another night to fuck Jason,” she slurs exhaustedly. “That is, if he’s into that. Have you even asked, Eager-Beaver?”

____

Tim stops in his tracks, lips slightly parted, eyes wide in embarrassment.

____

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Jason. Damnit. I’m normally—I’m usually really good about asking. I mean, consent is really important—I shouldn’t have just assumed, I’m sorry. If that’s not your thing it’s fine! Really! That doesn’t change the way I feel about you or anything. Doesn’t mean this has to stop. I just—”

____

“Completely lose all ability for my brain to function while I’m around you because all my blood is going straight to my dangly bits,” Stephanie supplies helpfully.

____

He can feel her wicked grin against his collarbone. Tim frowns, mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something back but can’t come up with anything stinging enough. Jason snickers at his discomfort.

____

“It’s, um. It’s okay. I think. I might be interested? I mean, unless Blondie here starts screaming in agony,” he adds, hoping it sounds more humorous than anxious.

____

Tim’s smirk comes back in full force, “Oh, trust me. She’ll be screaming, but not in agony.”

____

“I’m in agony waiting for you to shut up and get me in,” Stephanie gripes.

____

Tim gets behind her and Jason hears the click of the bottle cap, but he can’t see anything. He tilts his head a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of what Tim is doing over the curve of Blondie’s back. The curiosity picks at the frayed edges of his mind. He wants to _see_. Partially, to get a heads up on what he’s maybe in for later, and partially because he wants to know if how he imagines Tim’s refined fingers disappearing into Blondie’s puckered pink hole is anything like the real thing.

____

He fidgets a bit, antsy because right now it doesn’t seem like Tim is _doing anything at all_. He can hear the viscous sound of lube on skin, but Blondie is lax in his arms, unresponsive to whatever Tim is up to. Is he slicking himself up? Is he going to push into her without any prep? Is he—

____

Blondie sighs and quivers and… There’s a dull pressure against his sheathed penis. Faint, but there. It eases then comes back again and Jason realizes he’s feeling Tim’s index finger sliding in and out. It’s… interesting. With his other hand, Tim pets Blondie’s back.

____

“Ready?” he asks softly and waits for Stephanie to grant assent with a tip of her chin.

____

The pressure increases. Blondie’s breathing against his chest grows ragged. Two fingers is definitely noticeable. His own breath hitches in his chest, jaw dropping. Fuck. He swears Tim is purposefully trying to rub him _through_ her. Then the pressure mounts further and Jason whimpers and writhes under Blondie, because she’s velvet and warm and wonderful but he’s been hard inside her for what feels like _fucking forever now and he just needs some goddamn friction against his dick_. Tim tuts at his struggle and smiles.

____

“Patience. Just a little bit longer. Don’t want it to hurt,” Tim promises, strain evident in his voice. “Just a little longer and then I’m going to take my fingers out, okay?”

____

Jason and Blondie pant together. He can feel her heartbeat against him, and his own shuddering in counter-tempo. He can feel the way her muscles quake, coming alive in a second wave of arousal. Can feel Tim inside her. It’s surreal, like they’re the same. One body. One shared body with shared experiences and senses and Jason’s never felt anything like this before. He’s fervently aware this is the most intimate he’s ever been with anyone in his life and he doesn’t know how to handle that and when Tim removes his fingers he and Blondie both keen in their absence.

____

Above them Tim makes shushing noises and Blondie groans, deep and guttural like a wounded animal. Jason doesn’t make a sound, because he can’t breathe, can’t think. The sharp prick of teeth as Blondie nips at his collarbone in displaced tension brings him back. It’s tight, it’s so fucking tight. He can’t help trying to arc up. He’s strong, but he’s got two well-muscled adults on top of him and the bare inch he manages is more frustrating than gratifying. He grits his teeth and tries again.

____

A cool hand that’s definitely not Blondie’s (she’s got hers hooked into his pecs, clinging to him like a kitten with its claws) splays over his shoulder and slides up to his neck.

____

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. Calm down for second. Let me—let me try to start moving and then…” Tim tries to mollify him.

____

The dull slide of Tim’s penis in and out of Blondie’s body strokes deliciously against his through the thin tissues in between. Jason digs his elbows into the couch beneath him and sinks his fingers into the ripe peach flesh of Blondie’s hips, propping them up a bit, just enough to give him another inch of movement so he can set up a rhythm – pushing in when Tim pulls out. Tim’s hands layer over his and Jason can’t tell where one of them ends and the others begin, all of them moving in tandem like a giant beating heart.

____

Blondie wails in his ear and squirms, fat tears rolling down her cheeks and plopping onto his chest where they burst into tiny splatters. He sweeps his arms up to her shoulders and crushes her to him, refusing to let her wriggle away while he fucks desperately up into her. He drops one leg off the side of the couch and plants his foot on the floor to thrust harder. The wail crescendos into a shriek and the blunt head of Tim’s cock bumps over Jason’s glans on the way in and Jason is exploding and imploding all at once.

____

He throbs, shooting seed deep inside Stephanie. And doesn’t stop. Tim is still driving into her and every thrust passes over Jason’s hyper sensitized cock, milking a second and third spurt out of him. Jason clamors, his one free leg kicking out and connecting with something. He hopes it's the coffee table and not Tim’s shin. A mouth fastens over his, drinking his cries down. He’s jolted forward, head smacking into the couch armrest painfully, once, twice—teeth bite down on his bottom lip. Tim groans and the sound is a wordless command, at ease.

____

Jason goes limp, completely spent. Pinned though he is, he feels like he’s floating. He’d think Blondie had clear passed out, except for the little hiccups escaping from between her lips.

____

“Shit,” Tim swears quietly.

____

“Yeah,” Jason agrees.

____

It’s fifteen minutes before they recover enough to move. Blondie complains about needing a second shower until Jason heaves up from the couch and dumps her in the bath tub. He wishes the tub was as big as the one in Tim's apartment so they could all cram in together. As is, they take turns. Jason offers to go last, trying to be a good host. When he emerges, toweled-dry and loose sleep-shorts hanging off his waist, he’s rewarded with the sight of the two people he’s tentatively been letting into his heart, lounging in his bed. Tim is on the right side, with Blondie sprawled mostly on top – one arm and leg hooked over him. As he gets closer, Jason can see the golden fan of her eyelashes across her cheeks.

____

“She asleep?” he whispers.

____

Tim nods, a soft smile on his face as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

____

Jason crawls in on the other side, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping woman. The covers are cool against his skin and he inches closer until he can feel the heat from their bodies seeping into the mattress next to him. He relaxes into the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes. He opens them again when a hand seeks his out and twines between his fingers. He looks at Tim over Blondie’s head inquisitively.

____

“I just, I wanted to thank you again,” Tim says. “For being there and taking care of her. Stephanie’s not always easy to deal with. Sometimes I have a hard time telling what it is she needs from me, but you… You did good.”

____

Jason feels his cheeks warm up. He shakes his head, trying to dismiss Tim. He doesn’t want them to feel indebted to him for something as small as picking Blondie up and letting her drink past mistakes away.

____

“No, no,” Tim insists. “Listen to me, Jason. Please. It shows that you care. Look, Steph and I have been talking. And we wanted to take you out to dinner tonight to ask you something. She and I, we love each other. But it doesn’t always work. There’s something missing, you know? And we think… We think that something is you. We care about you. And, if I wasn’t convinced that you cared about us in return before – tonight proved it. If you’re receptive to it… We were hoping you’d like to be with us? In a relationship. The three of us all together.”

____

Tim finishes. He brushes his thumb back and forth over the knuckles of Jason’s hand in his, waiting. Waiting on him. Waiting on Jason to say something back. Jason swallows. He’s been wanting this. Wishing for it. He didn’t know how to ask for it, and never thought it would be offered up. Life isn’t that simple, isn’t that easy for him. He doesn’t get what he wants, and if he does, it goes horribly wrong. Like dying in a warehouse explosion before he turned sixteen wrong. But he wants this. He wants this so badly. His throat clicks when he tries to clear it.

____

“Yeah. Yeah, I… I’d like that,” he says, and squeezes Tim’s hand back.

____


End file.
